


What to do when your owner gets bored...

by Romanumeternal



Series: Julia and Marlia [6]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Ancient Rome, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Non-Sexual Slavery, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 18:56:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16687102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romanumeternal/pseuds/Romanumeternal
Summary: A bored Julia is an unhappy Julia, and an unhappy Julia makes for an unhappy Marlia...Also features a few snippets from the daytime television on offer in the People's Republic.





	What to do when your owner gets bored...

Julia yawned.

"Tired, Domina?"

The aristocratic girl snorted.

"Your observational skills, as ever, astound me, girl. Any other snippets of wisdom?" She stretched, catlike, on the couch. "No, not really. Just bored." She looked out over the suitcases Marlia had spent the morning packing for their trip back to Thrace. "All my friends are already gone home for the festival, its raining outside, half the shops are shut..." she trailed off, looking, Marlia somewhat disloyally thought, like a petulant puppy. She cocked her head. "When are we going?"

"Tomorrow morning, Domina."

Julia eyed her sourly. "Dumb bitch. Why didn't you book a train for today?"

Marlia paused, as ever wary of directly contradicting the woman who held legal title to her mind and body. "If you recall, Domina, I believe you did specify tomorrow."

"Yes, well, you should have asked me" snapped Julia, flapping her hands. Vaguely, Marlia wondered what Julia's reaction would have been if she had, indeed, asked Julia if she was sure. A slap for insolance was her verdict, as Julia continued. "Its the run-up to the Bonna Dea. Nothing's bloody happening, nothing's going on, save for that party of Myralia's. Which I do not intend to attend. Can't stand half her friends." She glanced outside,  at the chill drizzle that seemed to have enveloped Neapolis over the last two days. "Romulus above. Even the weather's foul. I knew I should have got up later and spent this afternoon at the gymnasia."

"You could invite Hadrian around, Domina?" suggested Marlia, eager to divert her Domina's mind onto more pleasant avenues. Used to her owner's moods, she knew that a bored Julia could quickly become a snappish, demanding and severe Julia. 

"Him? Oh no. He's going to a poetry reading this afternoon, so he's only over later. He asked me along, but honestly. Went to one with him a couple of weeks back. I have never been more bored in my life. Did you know there are over one hundred tiles on the ceiling at that bar? Because I counted."

Marlia hid a smile, recalling how Julia on that night had thanked Hadrian extravagantly for inviting her along. Were it not socially unthinkable, Marlia reckoned, Julia could have made a fine actress, and not just down to her looks.

As Marlia mused on the paths her Domina might have taken, Julia curled up on the couch. "Gods, switch the television on, girl. Make yourself bloody useful." She frowned. "And get me a bloody sandwich and a drink, as well. Honestly, I have to ask you to do everything."

Obediently, the slave scuttled forward, switching on the screen, before passing Julia the remote and retreating, not without a sense of relief, to prepare a meal for her owner. Once in the privacy of the kitchen, she rolled her eyes, and took out some - if not all - of her frustration on a helpless chunk of ham with the aid of a sharp knife. From the other room, she could hear the television as her Domina flipped listlessly through the channels. 

"...no, that's the wrong answer, so you're back to five thousand, I'm afraid, with one lifeline remaining. Gemellus Durus Gemellus is known for discovering the bacteria that causes plague, not leprosy!"...

Bloody demanding bitch, thought Marlia, as she buttered up some bread, stealing a slice for herself - canned slave food might well be nutritious, but it was hardly tasty, so whenever she could enlivened her diet with food supposedly earmarked for Julia alone. True, Marlia allowed, Julia was better than many Romans she'd known - which in itself was hardly a compliment - but by all the Gods she could be a demanding, arrogant, selfish, whining...

"...so you just drizzle the lemon juice over it, like so...not too much, just a few drops..."

...thoughtless brat. Really, it was -

"How long does it take to make a bloody sandwich, girl?"

"Apologies, Domina"

"Hurry up!"

"So, you're annoyed that your husband is sleeping with this new maid, but I do think you're being a bit overly critical, Fabia, especially since you purchased the girl..."

Marlia shook her head, ruefully. She was spoiled, she knew, when one compared her life against that of other slaves. Really, she was lucky. She had a full belly, warm bed, and irregular slaps as opposed to regular beatings. No men - or, for that matter, women - forced themselves on her. Hades, she even the occasional hour or two for herself. A far cry from the life she'd once led, to be sure.

But on the other hand, she thought, frowning, a full belly, a warm bed, the occasional snatched moment of leisure and the near certainty that today you wouldn't be raped or beaten hardly constituted a spoiled life...

 

"Drusus...if we don't replace that wine, the legate will murder us. Slowly. With hammers. Stop panicking."  
"How am I meant to stop panicking? I'm going to be murdered with a hammer in an hour!"  
"You'll be murdered by me in five minutes with this pen if you don't stop screaming! Don't panic!"  
"Oh, I'm meant to stop panicking, am I?"  
"Yes! No! Yes - wait! Drusus...I have a cunning plan!"

She sliced a tomato and cucumber, took some leaves of lettuce, washed and span them in the salad dryer, trying to get those thoughts out of her head. Such thoughts weren't really helpful, or productive, or enjoyable. Instead, she concentrated on assembling the sandwich, before pouring Julia a glass of lemonade.

"Oh, Gaius. I love you - please, don't do it! We can run away, together!"

She walked into the room, setting the tray ona  table beside Julia, who barely glanced at it.

"No salmon?" she snapped, and then sniffed, rolling her eyes. "Well, no matter." She pressed the remote again, leaving Marlia utterly unsurprised at the lack of thanks. 

""The Consul for War, Metullus Garius Scipio said that discussions with the Shahanshah would focus on the recent testing of a nuclear device in the Dasht-e Kavir desert; the fifth this decade. Whilst stressing the warm and friendly relationship between the People's Republic of Rome and the Khorosharan Empire, Consul Scipio said that the recent test was a needlessly provocative act, especially given the recent border clashes with the Serene Republic of Sarmolath. He went onto say..."

"Gods, girl, there's nothing on" muttered Julia, chewing on the sandwich. "What's for dinner?"

"I was going for some chicken soup, Domina."

"Huh. Fair enough, it'll freeze." She tilted her head towards Marlia. "Well, Marlia. How are you going to entertain me?"

"E-entertain, Domina?"

"You know. Entertain. I'm bored, I own you." She looked at Marlia, coldly, and sniffed. "Gods know, you've entertained enough men in your life."

Marlia gulped. It wasn't, of course, her place to even dream of telling Julia what she could or could not say to her, but if she could prohibit one subject, it'd be that; yet it was one her Domina mentioned with depressing regularity. Sometimes, it was true, as an almost affectionate insult, sometimes with almost a thrill, as something impossibly removed from Julia's own experience, sometimes as simply a fact of life. But other times, there was a clear undercurrent of menace, or contempt. She wondered, briefly, if Julia did it deliberately, knowing Marlia's feelings on the owners she'd previously served, or simply didn't care.

"Yes, Domina."

"Obviously, not in that way..." she said, although a slightly speculative look was in her eyes. Eager to stop Julia from speculating any further:

"You mean, make you a cocktail, Domina?" She paused, and then couldn't resist adding "I made a lot of those for a lot of men." She had, too. Privately, Marlia was rather proud of that particular skill.

"You know damn well that wasn't what they mostly wanted you for" said Julia, although a smile quirked her lips. "And no, it is far too early to start drinking." She paused. "How about a game?"


End file.
